


Ode to Blue

by MindYourMind



Series: Headcanons-R-Us Series [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, VictUuri, canonverse, headcanons abound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-10-31 14:34:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10901340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MindYourMind/pseuds/MindYourMind
Summary: Victor loved everything in the crossroads where Yuuri met blue. One day, he found out why wearing blue made Yuuri practically glow. Oneshot.





	Ode to Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. Disclaimer: I don't own Yuri!!! on Ice. If I owned Yuuri Katsuki, you bet your buttons I would dress him up like Mr. Darcy and have never-ending tea parties (with katsudon and cookies). 
> 
> Constructive criticism welcome. Rated T for Yuri's language.

For the third consecutive day, Yuuri's training shirt was blue. As Victor stood behind the barrier, watching Yuuri skating figures in a sort of somber, fervent ritual, he listed the color variations in his head. 

On Tuesday, a vibrant royal blue that could put sapphires to shame. On Wednesday, a navy so dark and deep, you'd mistake it for black from a distance. And today, Thursday, a baby powder blue that would rival the sky of a cloud-clustered morning. All three seemed to compliment the ice, as if Yuuri had planned it so, to draw Victor's gaze.

Victor loved everything in the crossroads where Yuuri met blue.

“Yuuri!” Victor called, upon seeing Yuuri pause for a second. Yuuri looked up, face expectant, probably looking for suggestions or a run-down of Victor's strategy for the day. “You always look so great in blue. It suits you so well!”

Yuuri blushed slightly. The first time Victor raved on the subject, his blush was more furious and beautiful than a hyper-saturated sunset along the Hasetsu coast. But now this was possibly the fiftieth offense, Yuuri's only reaction was a pink tint highlighting his cheeks.

Victor wanted to ask Yuuri outright why he favored blue. There was a theme here, but _what_? His dilemma: phrasing. Choice words could make or break a question, the same way choice motions could make or break a program's choreography. Everything needed to follow a certain mood and flow.  
Skates edged into his peripheral vision, scarring the ice with sharp screeching noises just to his left. Victor raised his gaze from the toe picks to eye Yuri in the face. Yuri huffed at him.

“Tch, you're getting awfully air-headed lately, even for an old man,” he said, coasting up to the barrier. He downed half his water bottle in one go.

“Then help me clear my head,” said Victor, glad for a second opinion. He would go with Yuri's preference (animal print fetish aside, Yuri had killer taste about some things). Or just ask all of them in succession. In a conspiratorial whisper, he listed his options thus:

1\. Yuuri, why do you have this not-so-secret love affair with blue?  
2\. Yuuri, do you fancy blue, or does blue fancy you? Which is it, and why?  
3\. Yuuri, should I be jealous about your fondness for blue? What's the big deal?  
4\. Yuuri, you see stories in everything . . . so what story do you see when you wear blue?

Yuri, as always, was quick to respond. “What the hell, Victor! They're all basically the same question. And the answer is obvious! He wears blue because it's on his official Japan jacket. Patriotic, duh. It's simple.”

“No, it's _not_ ,” Victor insisted. “Nothing is simple with Yuuri – everything is so nuanced and wonderful and profound. He doesn't do things on mere whim.” Yuri shot him a significant look clearly stating _unlike some fool with know with one skate in the grave_. Victor plowed on, heedless. “He plans meticulously, till his lungs breathe it, his breathe prays it, his heart pumps it, his blood sings it, and his body lives it.”

“You're over-thinking worse than he would,” said Yuri, squeezing his water bottle in irritation. “Stop word-vomiting, save your breath to cool your _katsudon_ , and leave him alone about this. _If you can_.”

Victor arched a brow. “Was that a challenge, Yurio?”

“Don't call me Yurio!” 

The water bottle sailed in Victor's direction. Victor coolly side-stepped and let it fall past his shoulder with a clatter. “Very well, snow kitten,” he said amiably.

“Don't make me stab you, old man.”

Victor ignored him, focusing on waving Yuuri over to him. It took a minute, but once Yuuri noticed Victor's flailing, he aborted the sitting-spin he was gearing up for, and sped over to Victor.

“What is it, Victor?” Yuuri asked, shoulders heaving with deep breaths.

“I like how much you like blue,” said Victor. Internally, he was facepalming. So much for phrasing, Nikiforov. Way to show off your silver tongue to match your hair, Victor.

Yuuri blinked at him. “I don't like blue.”

Victor tilted his head to the side in surprise. “You don't?” he repeated.

“No. I adore it.”

“Why?”

There was something in Yuuri's brown eyes. Something fond, something profound, something . . . a little devious. Victor was two seconds away from grabbing his phone and snapping a picture for later analysis. “You _really_ want to know?” Yuuri pressed.

Victor hated it when Yuuri made him wait. And Yuuri made him wait a lot. Cruel man. “Yes!” he said, shaking the barrier a little in his impatience.

Yuuri sighed. “Very well. It's because it's the color of your eyes.”

Victor stood as if frozen, utterly speechless. Yuuri skated away, serene in the extreme, as tears formed and dangled in the lashes above Victor's eyes and made his vision swim.

**Author's Note:**

> BOOM. Way to drop a mike, Yuuri, way to drop a mike.
> 
> Victor can't be blamed; we all word vomit in the thousands at the mere thought of Yuuri.
> 
> I need #SaveYourBreathToCoolYourKatsudon2K17 on a t-shirt. Long-ass hashtags are cool.
> 
> Mood music while writing this was  Track 2: Dive to the Future from Free! Eternal Summer soundtrack. What? The Free! soundtrack is AMAZING writing music.


End file.
